


Rare Perception

by MoyashiRaita



Series: Seeing Death [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, You have a superpower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoyashiRaita/pseuds/MoyashiRaita
Summary: You and the Undertaker are back at his shop, and life is returning to normal. But when a customer with an unusual heritage walks in, another adventure is about to begin...





	

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend you read Unusual Sight before you read this. If you do not, it will likely not make sense. With that, enjoy!

You hummed as you tidied, beating cobwebs from the corners and shooing dust bunnies from under furniture. You’d been in California helping Ronald Knox with a string of unusual deaths that required the help of a date-reader, and the Undertaker had sent you alone, preferring to remain in his shop. You’d been gone a week, and the place was an utter disaster.

 

Overall, it had been just over a month since you’d returned from the Reaper realm. The shop had been horrific when you got back from there as well, but the Undertaker had reopened anyways. Giggling, he had reminded you of your original words — that death wasn’t on a schedule. You sighed and laid down your broom, admiring how much you had managed to get done.

 

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, and you closed your eyes as a gentle kiss was placed on your head. “The place looks mu~ch cleaner, m’dear.”

 

You giggled as you leaned back into the Undertaker, tilting your head back to look at him. “How on earth does your shop get this dusty in only a week?”

 

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” A grin appeared. “It’s one of the great mysteries of life~”

 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to face him, returning the hug. “You  _really_  need to find better mysteries then.”

 

The Undertaker’s arms tightened around you, and you stood there in silence for a few moments until the sound of footsteps on the front stairs of the shop caused you to break apart. He jumped into a coffin, and you shook your head, mentally preparing to do damage control. You picked up your broom and continued to sweep until the door opened a moment later after some apparent hesitation from the owner of the previous footsteps.

 

You stepped behind the counter as the little bell jingled, laying down your broom as you did so. “Welcome!” You said, smiling. “How may I help you today?”

 

The woman glanced around nervously. “Well, um… you see…it’s my dad. He’s, um, not going to be around much longer, and…” She trailed off, looking troubled, and you stepped out from behind the counter, giving her a hug.

 

“I’m sorry. You need a coffin?” You asked. Glancing around, you saw no movement from the coffin that the Undertaker had jumped in. Maybe he was being nice for once.  _Doubtful_ , your brain replied.

 

The woman nodded, and you asked a few basic questions. What kind of wood was she looking for? What color lining? How tall was her father? The woman responded in a quiet voice, and you led her to a section of pre-made coffins, making sure it was as far away from the Undertaker as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him slip out of the coffin he was in and head to the back. You were vaguely surprised, and celebrated the fact that your rational brain had been wrong for once. You turned back to the coffins, prepared to answer any questions.

 

Alas, your brain had, in fact, not been wrong.

 

“Biscuit~?” A voice chimed out behind the two of you. You yelped and the woman turned pale as you were both met with the grinning face of the Undertaker holding out a urn of bone-shaped cookies.

 

You immediately slapped the Undertaker upside the head. “ _Rude_.” You hissed. You were met with hysterical giggling. He swayed over to the counter and jumped up to sit on it, pulling out a biscuit and munching on it as he did so. You turned to the woman. “I apologize for his behavior. I’m trying to get him to stop _terrorizing customers_.” You added the last bit in a louder tone to make sure he heard. It was met with more giggles.

 

The woman nodded, still pale. “It’s… it’s quite alright. Good constitution, you know?” Color started to return to her face. “He… he should just be glad I don’t have a sword with me today.” She added in a bold tone, one totally at odds with her appearance.

 

You stared for a moment. “Sword?” You asked.

 

The woman nodded. “All the women in our family have learned to fence for the past three hundred years. The men too, but the women are usually better.”

 

“Eh?!” The Undertaker said, grin dropping as he bounced over. You raised an eyebrow, and prepared to slap him again. He stopped inches from the woman, and stared at her. You sighed.

 

“Sorry again…” You muttered as the Undertaker backed off, noticing your raised hand.

 

“If I might ask~” The Undertaker cut you off. “You don’t happen to be related to an Elizabeth Midford, do you~?” He seemed oddly serious, and you lowered your hand, curious. Midford? He’d never mentioned an Elizabeth Midford before.

 

The woman shook her head slowly. “No…” She said, cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

 

The Undertaker shrugged. “Just a thought was all~”

 

The woman glanced between you and the Undertaker. You glanced at her, noting as a matter of interest that her death-date was a long way off.

 

She hesitated for a moment. “My family immigrated here from England in the early 1900s.” She offered. “I seem to recall an  _Edward_  Midford, if that helps.”

 

The Undertaker’s grin returned. “It does, yes~ Thank you.”

 

He swayed off towards the back of the shop, and you raised an eyebrow. “Okay then.” You commented. “For the third time, I’m sorry about him. He’s a little… odd.”

 

The woman shook her head. “It’s no trouble. In fact… he’s somewhat amusing.” She said, watching him go. “Though… I find myself…not quite at ease around him, if you know what I mean?” The woman looked at the curtain separating the front of the shop from the back, where he had disappeared. “It’s probably just a silly feeling.” She turned back to the coffins, and you regarded her with some curiosity. The two of you, undisturbed by the Undertaker, found a coffin that was almost perfect, but not quite. You offered to put her down for a custom coffin, which you said would only take a few days.

 

“We’re not particularly busy at the moment.” You told her. “If you could just sign this, and leave us with a phone number, we’ll let you know when it’s done. And if you want to bring your dad here too…” You trailed off for a second, but continued. “Well, we do that as well.”

 

The woman nodded as she filled out the order forms. “Thank you. This has all been rather sudden.”

 

You nodded. “My younger sibling was like that.”

 

The woman glanced up. “I’m sorry.”

 

You shrugged. “Cancer. Fourth stage before they caught it. It was several years ago.” You took the forms from the woman. “Thanks for coming in.”

 

The woman nodded gratefully and left. You glanced at the forms. Her name was Cordelia James. You filed the form properly and headed into the back of the shop. The Undertaker was standing by the window, staring out at the alleyway.

 

“Undertaker?” You asked quietly.

 

He turned to look at you, his bangs clipped back and his face in full view. He made no response, but held out an arm. You recognized the signal for a hug, and joined him by the window, an arm wrapping around you as you did so. The two of you stood there in silence for some time. When he finally spoke, it was almost half to himself. “Did you notice her eyes?” He began, not really looking for an answer. “They were green. The perfect emerald green of a shinigami descendant.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Unfortunately, I _do_  know who those came from. Sometimes I wonder if the universe likes to laugh at me by pushing people into my path that I should never have come across again.” He paused, and you noticed tears beginning to glimmer in his eyes.

 

You took the opportunity to speak. “Her name is Cordelia.” You ventured, guessing that this was brought on by your recent customer.

 

The Undertaker nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. I suspect it’s a name that’s been passed down. I’d guess she has a grandmother named Ethel.”

 

You looked at him curiously. “Ethel?”

 

He hesitated. “Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford.” He finally said.

 

Your jaw dropped, and the Undertaker’s grin came back a little, but it didn’t hold any of its usual mirth. “I did tell you I was an informant for Ciel Phantomhive. He was…”

 

“An Earl.” You interrupted. At the Undertaker’s curious look, you shrugged. “Internet.”

 

The Undertaker nodded. “Yes. Lady Midford was his fiancee.”

 

You nodded, still not quite sure why the appearance of Cordelia had brought on such an extreme reaction. “Okay. Did they get married?”

 

He shook his head. “Ciel died when he was seventeen.”

 

You were at a loss for words. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It was his choice.” The Undertaker replied, but then clarified. “You remember Sebastian?”

 

You nodded, and Undertaker continued. “When Ciel was ten, his parents were killed, the manor that he lived in was burned to the ground, and he was kidnapped. He was gone a month. He came back with the butler and an eyepatch.”

 

Something clicked when you combined this with what you already knew. “So Ciel had, what, formed a contract? And it was fulfilled?” You guessed.

 

He nodded. “By the time I got there, Ciel’s soul was gone. Elizabeth was heartbroken. I told her brother to take her away from England. There was no reason for her to stay there, and honestly, I was afraid Sebastian would come after her, too.”

 

Something else clicked. “So Edward was her brother.”

 

More nodding. “I suppose they’re both long gone now.”

 

You hesitated before asking your last question. “You said you knew who the green eyes came from. Who?” Somehow, you felt like you already knew the answer.

 

“Me.”

 

* * *

After that bombshell, the Undertaker had refused to speak any more on the subject. A few more days passed, during which you finished cleaning the shop as he worked on the custom coffin. The moment the shop was cleaned to your satisfaction, you stuffed the cleaning supplies back in the closet and ran out the door, checking that you had your knife as you left. You trotted towards the park, plopping down on your favorite bench. People were milling about, and you checked death-dates for every single one. The closest was two weeks off.

 

Sitting back with a sigh, you pulled out your knife and began playing with it, careful not to cut yourself. After a couple hours, you grew bored, and began to wander the park in search of new people. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, you stopped by a pond to watch some ducks. Movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you turned to look. A little girl was tossing pieces of bread to the ducks. Her death-date was a long way off, but something about her kept your attention. She wasn’t particularly pretty, or cute, or even interesting to look at, but you had a bad feeling about the death-date surrounding her. Even though it read as January 20, 2067, it was almost as though it was in flux, something you hadn’t ever seen before.

 

As you watched, she slipped towards the pond, seemingly unawares that she was doing so. Glancing around, you saw nobody bothering to stop and tell her to get away from the pond. It was like she was invisible. As you stepped nearer, however, you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

 

“Please, leave her be.” A silky voice whispered in your ear. Reacting instinctively, you spun away and lashed out with your knife, only to have it blocked by a spoon of all things. “I do not believe that is any way to treat an acquaintance, my lady.” Sebastian said smoothly. “I would much appreciate it if you were to leave my snack alone, however.”

 

You glared at him. “I can’t do that.”

 

He smirked. “Oh, but it would be so easy to simply turn and walk away. You’d never even need to look back.” He leaned down closer. “Wouldn’t you like to not have to perform a reaping today?”

 

You smirked right back. “Actually, I’m perfectly fine with it. How’d you like to move up your death by a few decades? I’m sure I can manage  _that_.”

 

He blanched, and lowered his spoon. You lowered your knife, and the two of you stared at each other for a moment. A splash behind you, and a voice cried out, “Lizzie!”

 

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the demon, but you recognized the voice. It was Cordelia. “I see.” You said, coldly. “Finishing off a family, are we?”

 

Sebastian smiled. “You see, I wanted her great-grandmother, but seeing as how she’s long gone—”

 

You cut him off. “Undertaker did mention that he’d gotten Elizabeth out of the country in case you came after her. He also mentioned that she’d been Ciel’s fiancee.”

 

Sebastian looked curious for a second. “And how much else did he tell you?”

 

You looked at him. “Enough. But while we’re being civil, I’d like you to answer a question.”

 

“Do I get my dinner?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then why should I bother?”

 

You shrugged. “Death date.”

 

A brief flicker of annoyance ran across Sebastian’s face. “Very well. What do you wish to know?”

 

You paused, careful with your question so there could be no loopholes out of it. “Ciel Phantomhive died over a hundred years ago, but you are hunting down the Midford family line, which was attached to the Phantomhives only through an engagement. If you were the Phantomhive butler, and there was no marriage, you should have no attachment to them. So why are you hunting them? And no ‘just because’ answers.” You added hastily, as Sebastian opened his mouth to speak. He grimaced, and you were very glad you had added that last clause.

 

Sebastian paused, glancing behind you as Cordelia led Lizzie away from the pond. You could see the hungry look in his eyes, and you wondered why. His next words made it clear. “The young master, as his last action, made it clear that as long as any of his family lived, I would be bound to the youngest member, regardless of whether or not they knew of my existence.”

 

You smirked. “Clever boy.” A thought popped into your head. “But his family was already dead.”

 

Sebastian frowned. “Unfortunately, not all. Technically, the Lady Elizabeth was family, seeing as how she was his cousin.”

 

You grimaced. “Ew.”

 

Sebastian shrugged. “It was quite common in those days, you know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find another convenient time to catch the youngest member of the Midford line.” He sidestepped you and began to walk away. On an impulse, you launched yourself at his back, aware that it was a stupid idea. You made a neat cut across the back of his arm, with your knife, causing him to hiss as his eyes went from red to pink and a couple frames of his record slipped out. “So this is how a half-reaper treats a parley.”

 

You snorted. “Parley? I don’t recall that word being used. I didn’t even say I wouldn’t hurt you if you answered my question.”

 

Sebastian smirked. “Well-played. However…” He launched three or four forks at you, forcing you to duck. “I’m far more experienced. Remember that next time we meet.” With that, he seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving you standing by a dirty green pond, ducks quacking as silverware plopped into the water around them.

**Author's Note:**

> I have begun a sequel to Unusual Sight! I don't know if it's as good as the original (when is a sequel ever?) but I do hope you all enjoy it!


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